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The birth certificate says Grace Hospital, Detroit, Michigan, March 31, 1925. Also, it says that I was born around 7 AM, and I was named George William Gibson. Somehow, I became "Bill" (or, rather, "Billy"). Whatever happened to "George"? I really don't know. Even today, some computers and papers with such obnoxious items as "first name, middle initial" have trouble with "G. William". I don't. And most of the time I refuse to obey commands such as "first name". I feel its mine to do with what I want -- or not to do with what I want. This is my story, or rather the story of my father, Bill, me, Billy and our gang of Gibsons.…mehr

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The birth certificate says Grace Hospital, Detroit, Michigan, March 31, 1925. Also, it says that I was born around 7 AM, and I was named George William Gibson. Somehow, I became "Bill" (or, rather, "Billy"). Whatever happened to "George"? I really don't know. Even today, some computers and papers with such obnoxious items as "first name, middle initial" have trouble with "G. William". I don't. And most of the time I refuse to obey commands such as "first name". I feel its mine to do with what I want -- or not to do with what I want. This is my story, or rather the story of my father, Bill, me, Billy and our gang of Gibsons.